


Target Practice

by vol_ctrl



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Asexuality Spectrum, Blow Jobs, Consent is Sexy, First Time, Healthy Relationships, Inspired by Fanart, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Negotiations, Overstimulation, Red Light/Green Light, Rimming, Rough Sex, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sex Positive Angel Dust, Tenderness, The Radio Demon Fucks, Touch-Averse Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Virgin Alastor, Vulnerable Alastor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22148872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vol_ctrl/pseuds/vol_ctrl
Summary: Alastor comes to Angel Dust with a proposition: help him overcome his touch aversion and take his virginity. Angel Dust is floored, and determined to make sure this is really what Alastor wants.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 83
Kudos: 1241
Collections: Favourite ace fics





	Target Practice

**Author's Note:**

> This is a super self-indulgent fic I wrote after being chained to deadlines for months. I was totally blown away by [this fanart](https://twitter.com/P_Parita_Sook_k/status/1206909967497744385?s=09) I saw by [@P_Parita_Sook_k](https://twitter.com/P_Parita_Sook_k) and HAD to write the fic of how they got there. It ended up being a looong, consent-is-sexy indulgence with Angel being the hero we deserve.
> 
> While I was writing, my friend [DragonBiblio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonBiblio) was drawing some delicious [Angel art](https://twitter.com/DragonBiblio/status/1214295420563787776?s=20), and it fit perfectly in my fic, so check that out, too!!
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it ~

“Might I have a word with you?” 

Angel looked up from his magazine to find Alastor standing in his doorway. “Just one word?” Angel teased, then scoffed. “That would be a fuckin’ miracle with you, Smiles.” He rolled onto his side on the rosy pink bedspread and propped his chin in hand. “What’s up?”

“It pertains to a topic of a rather… delicate nature,” Alastor went on.

For the first time ever, Angel saw Alastor look away. His dominant smile never faltered, but his eyes flickered, almost dimmed, and darted for a moment to the far corner of the room. The spider demon’s heterochromic eyes widened and his smile shrank to a curious little line.

“Uh… what’s goin’ on with you?” Angel asked. He looked toward the open door, then sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Yeah, yeah. We can talk.” Of all people who needed to have a “talk” in the hotel, Angel never expected it would be Alastor. The porn star stood and walked over. “Come on in. Make yerself at home.” Angel’s look of confusion turned to worry as he passed Alastor.

The radio demon took a few steps further into Angel’s room, looking around. It was very _pink_ and distinctly soft. Everything seemed to be fuzzy or feathery or plush. He saw a few sex toys on the actor’s vanity, some leather strapping hanging off the bench, sticking out of drawers. All of the books on Angel’s shelf looked to be pornographic in nature--photo books, erotic literature, how-to guides. His closet was stuffed to the brim and then some, spilling out onto the floor in piles here and there.

Angel shut the door and crossed his arms. Was this some kind of trick? Was Alastor pulling his leg? Trying to get something out of him? “Soo…” Angel walked over to his vanity and sank down on the bench. “What’d’ya need?”

Alastor turned on his heel to face Angel. “I’m in a bit of a predicament, my dear fellow. One, I think, in which you may be just the man for the job,” he said with his usual pomp and charm, but Angel had been around Al long enough to see that it was _all_ performance. Usually there was at least a hint of Alastor in there, sarcastic or pleased, manipulative or amused. Right now he looked like a puppet. 

“You see, I have been a man of immense power for many, many years now in Hell,” he went on, pacing toward Angel’s closet. “I have few friends, and few enemies… left alive, that is.” He smiled darkly over his shoulder, then turned his body to face Angel once more.

“Uh-huh,” Angel replied flatly as he leaned back against his vanity. “So I’ve heard.”

“Now, a man as powerful as I, you may wonder--the _world_ may wonder--does he even _have_ a weakness?” Alastor proposed with a sweeping gesture. “How could he remain upon the throne for so many years? Is there nothing than can stop him?”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Get on with it, Al!” he barked. “If I’da known you were gonna practice yer fuckin’ award show speech, I would’a told you to hit bricks.” He crossed his arms tightly over chest and abdomen. “Now what’s this about?”

Alastor stopped short, his wide eyes fixed on Angel. His smile softened a degree and he cleared his throat. The sound was very quiet, as if he had stepped away from whatever it was that amplified and affected his voice. The well-dressed demon straightened himself before Angel.

“I would like you to take my virginity, Angel Dust.”

Angel somehow fell off the bench. He stared at Alastor with shocked, shrunken pupils. “WHAT?” he shouted.

Alastor winced at the sudden spike in volume, static filling the following silence.

Angel stared until his eyes burned, then rubbed at them and blinked. Alastor was still just standing there. He hadn’t hallucinated him. Angel pinched himself, jaw slack. Not dreaming. He got to his feet and went over to the light switch. He flicked it on and off. It worked. Definitely not dreaming.

Alastor stood there with an expectant look on his face, but was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Oookayyy…” Angel took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, steadying himself with a hand on the edge of his vanity. “That’s a… a lot to unpack there, buddy.” He ran a hand through his hair and let it flop back into place.

“It’s quite simple really,” Alastor began calmly.

“Shhzt--” Angel cut him off with a pinch of his fingers. “It’s _not_ simple. You come in here talkin’ about almighty power and ‘what’s his weakness,’ and then you spring _that_ on me?” The spider demon stared at Alastor, tried to peel back that mysterious lacquer that coated Alastor to a terrifying sheen.

“Well, you see--” Alastor lifted a finger to explain, but Angel cut him off.

“Ah-ah. I’m not done. I’m still processin’.” Angel sauntered toward Alastor, hands on his hips, brow furrowed. “Let me get this straight--you think bein’ a virgin is a weakness?” Angel was thoroughly unimpressed by this presumption. Sure, Angel thought it was _ludicrous_ that Alastor was a virgin, but he didn’t judge him for it. Well, not seriously. Fucking weird, but _fine._

“In a manner of--”

“Bup-bup,” Angel waved a hand at Alastor to stop him. He stood directly in front of Alastor, stared hard into those blood red eyes. After a long moment, Angel sighed and went limp. “You’re just fuckin’ with me.”

“I assure you I am not,” Alastor said brightly.

“Prove it, then,” Angel challenged, hip cocked to one side, knuckles planted upon it.

Alastor raised his eyebrows, uncertainty cracking his smile.

“Take off your clothes,” Angel tossed out with a careless wave of his hand. “Kiss me. Prove you’re not fucking with me.” He stared relentlessly at Alastor. This was a fucking joke, and he was not going to be made a fool of. He didn’t know what Alastor’s game was, but he didn’t take kindly to being mocked for his sexuality or profession.

Alastor looked frozen. He didn’t move, nor did he speak. No snappy quip, no playful banter, no rejection. Just a slowly rising hum of static, a faint vibration in the air threaded through with a warbling signal.

The longer Angel watched Alastor stand there practically catatonic, the heavier those words weighed on Angel’s mind. His annoyance slowly melted into confusion, then disbelief, and finally, worry. Alastor hadn’t said a word.

“Oh, shit. You’re serious,” Angel breathed.

“Yes. Quite,” Alastor said quietly.

“Al, listen. There’s nothin’ wrong with being a virgin.” Angel couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, but… Alastor had never expressed even the slightest bit of interest in sex. With him, or with anyone else. His libido was like a void in the world--blank, empty space. Angel had been horrified at first, utterly baffled, but he had come to not only accept that about Alastor, but actually enjoy it sometimes. Alastor never looked at him like johns did, never stared at his breasts or his thighs. When Alastor looked at him, Angel felt _seen._ It was weird, but it was cool.

“How can a man be whole if he has not experienced the full breadth of existence?” Alastor said grandly, eyes closed with the gravity of the statement.

“Nice try, but your fancy fuckin’ words don’t work on me, pal. I’m too stupid to get it,” Angel spat. “Be real with me. What’s gotten into ya?”

Alastor smiled, and Angel could see it was that soft kinda smile he got sometimes. Like when they weren’t annoying the shit out of each other, like when he said something that actually seemed to amuse Alastor. The radio demon used his laughter like punctuation, part of his act. When he was genuinely amused, he was quiet.

“I’m sure you’ve realized how I feel about being touched,” Alastor said plainly. The genuine tone of his voice made the hairs on the back of Angel’s neck stand on end. “ _You_ are most intimately familiar with that.”

“Yeah,” Angel nodded. “Which is why it’s fucking crazy nutzo you comin’ in here askin’ me ta take your virginity.” He crossed his arms and shifted his weight, cocking his other hip as he grinned. “You… do know that would require me to touch you, right? Like, a lot,” he snorted.

“I am inexperienced, not ignorant,” Alastor replied coolly with a smile.

“So, what?” Angel studied the nails on one of his hands. “You just assume _I’d_ be willing to deflower ya ‘cause I’m a slut? Oh, yeah--go ask the slut, he’ll fuck anything,” Angel mocked with a sneer. “Well, I won’t,” he said tersely, shoulders jerking as he crossed his arms more tightly.

“You _are_ the resident expert,” Alastor preened.

“Fuck off, Al.” Angel blew off the radio demon with a middle finger and turned away from him. “Virginity’s for someone you care about. Or who cares about you, or some shit. And findin’ that down here is about as likely as a white fucking Christmas.”

“I didn’t come to you as the resident expert. Well, that is not the sole reason.” Alastor leaned to the side, catching Angel’s eyes in the mirror.

“Oh yeah?” Angel shot back without turning, his eyes heavy-lidded in derision.

“I came to you because I trust you.”

Angel’s eyes shot wide as he gave a start. Blood pumped all too quickly to his face--okay, and a little bit down south, out of habit--and he could practically feel his heart thudding in his chest.

“I would dare say that is about as close to caring for another person as one may get in Hell.”

Angel looked quickly down at the floor to get away from Alastor’s gaze. He peeked over his shoulder at the radio demon, then slowly turned back to face him. “Y’... y’ really mean that?”

“I don’t make a habit of lying.”

Angel smiled at the floor with disbelief, then shook his head, a grin breaking out across his face. “Alright. Alright! So’s, you trust me.” Angel couldn’t help but beam at the fact. “But I’m still kinda sus about your motivation.”

“Why does anyone do anything?” Alastor plied with his usual line of reasoning.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Yer not tryin’ ta losin’ yer virginity because yer bored. There’s gotta be a reason.” The spider looked expectantly at Alastor. “I’m not gonna do it if you won’t tell me why.”

Alastor didn’t really want to get into it, but… he’d made it this far, choked back the vile feeling of obligation to face this flaw, smothered the anxiety that gnawed at his insides, finally made up his mind and steeled his nerves.

“Have you ever heard of exposure therapy?” Alastor asked.

Angel snorted and gave a short nod. “Sure.” He laughed. “This is fuckin’ therapy?”

Alastor smiled thinly. “No pun intended.”

Angel narrowed his eyes in confusion, and Alastor waved it off.

“My revulsion to touch has become… distracting.”

Angel tilted his head and waited for Alastor to go on.

Reluctantly, he did. “... It is a… flaw. I do not care to see my flaws.”

The spider demon looked impressed. “Takes a lotta guts to admit that shit.” Angel looked Alastor up and down, then grinned and clapped two hands on the radio demon’s shoulders. Before he could get a word out, Alastor shoved him back hard. Angel stumbled back into his vanity with a shout, make-up rattled and jostled, a dildo rolled to the ground.

“Jesus H, Alastor!” Angel growled. “You fuckin’ come in here, and ask me--” he started to wind himself up into a full blown tirade.

“Angel, please--” Alastor hissed, his voice cracking and popping like a bad signal. “Ins-st--inct.” Static buzzed red and anxious in his eyes.

Angel pouted angrily at Alastor, but seeing how fucked up he was over it, the spider sighed and let the tension drain out of his body. “Fuckin’ weirdo,” he muttered, but just shook his head. “Alright, first thing’s first. You need a goddamn safeword. I’m not gonna fight you for this--it’s not my thing.”

Alastor recomposed himself in stages as the static faded to solid red once more.

“You know what a safeword is?” Angel asked in a teacherly tone.

“I understand the concept, yes.”

“You say the safeword, I’m done. I’ll stop,” Angel said seriously.

Alastor swallowed. The very thought made it all begin to feel starkly real.

“You gotta pick a safeword.”

Alastor’s knuckles cracked as his gloves creaked, tension pooling into his fists. He stared off toward the corner of the room, looking at a pin-up of Angel with unseeing eyes.

Angel was having some serious doubts about this. Alastor was wound tighter than a g-string on a Brazillian babe. Was this really such a good idea? Could he handle being touched at all? When it was all talk, he seemed to have made up his mind, but now that Angel was talking brass tacks, he was drifting off again.

“Hey, Smiles. Do you wanna do this or not?” Angel prompted.

Alastor turned to look at him and laughed. “I can’t think of anything.”

Angel gave him a grim smile. “Alright, well it’s gotta be something you wouldn’t normally say. Nothin’ like ‘stop,’ ‘cause it’s natural to say that when it’s a lot. And it’s…” Angel paused and offered Alastor a sympathetic smile. “It’s gonna be a lot for you.”

Alastor straightened the cuffs of his coat.

“What about somethin’ like ‘Beetlejuice?’ Or somethin’ simple like ‘apple?’”

Alastor gave a little shiver.

Angel frowned, but pushed on, trying to lighten the tone. “Oklahoma?” He was given a moment’s pause, “You’re not from Oklahoma, are you?”

Alastor shot him a withering look. At least that was more on-brand for Alastor, given his current state.

“Umm… jamboree!” Angel suggested. “Ooh, or sassafras? That’s an old-timey one for ya.”

Alastor’s chest felt full of unreleased static. The thought of saying any of these words made him uncomfortable. It felt as if choosing the word meant he would need to use it, that he would fail to overcome this obstacle.

Angel sighed. Gone catatonic again. He pushed himself from the vanity and walked over to Alastor. “Maybe we’ll try somethin’ different.” He lifted a hand, making sure Alastor saw where it was going, and slowly took the radio demon’s hand in his own. “You know traffic lights?” He lifted Alastor’s hand between them, his pale thumb stark over the black of the back of Alastor’s hand.

“Yes...?” Alastor replied slowly, the word scratching from a dry throat.

“I’ll ask you--red light? Green light?” Angel’s eyes never left Alastor’s as he slowly ran his thumb over the back of his hand. “And you say--” He brought Alastor’s hand closer, lifted it up toward his lips.

A breath rattled down Alastor’s throat as he watched Angel’s lips hover over his knuckles. He could feel the warmth of the demon’s breath through his glove, the prickle of sensation his touch caused. It was much duller in his hands than other parts of his body, easier to overcome. “... Green light,” he said quietly.

Angel smiled and kissed Alastor’s knuckles sweetly. He brought up another hand, laced his fingers with Alastor’s, as the previous hand smoothed down his palm, pale fingers tracing his wrist under the cuff of his coat. “Red light?” he asked softly as his fingertips brushed past the hem of Alastor’s glove and touched a bare inch of skin.

Alastor’s fingers twitched and his eyelids flickered. But he replied, “... Green light.”

Angel relaxed, his smile coming easy and buttery. “That’s good. Yer doin’ good,” he said sweetly. He left Alastor’s wrist, and instead went for his cheek. He’d never touched Alastor’s face before, never even dreamed of getting that close. Even in his fantasies involving Alastor, the radio demon didn’t let him touch him. “Red light?”

Alastor jerked, and Angel felt the muscles of his jaw tense under his fingertips. He shut his eyes for a moment, then shook his head.

“Al,” Angel prompted, “you gotta say it. Red light, green light?”

Alastor grit his teeth through his smile. As the seconds ticked by, he found that he grew used to Angel’s skin against his own. He opened his eyes and looked at Angel. He saw the demon he trusted--the real, raw demon underneath all the sexual performance. There was patience in that look, and understanding.

“Green light,” Alastor buzzed.

Angel took advantage of the contact, then, ran his fingertips up Alastor’s cheekbone, down along his narrow jaw. “Is that gonna work for ya?”

Alastor nodded a bit and looked down. “Yes.”

“D’you want me to kiss ya?” Angel asked with a tilt of his head. There was nothing shy or tender about the question--he just asked straight-up.

Alastor blinked at Angel. Angel hadn’t asked _could_ he kiss him, but rather if Alastor _wanted_ him to. “On the lips?”

Angel laughed. “Or wherever.”

Alastor considered this for a moment. “That would be natural, wouldn’t it.”

Angel grinned. “Nothin’ natural about you, babe.”

Alastor was infected by Angel’s easy-going grin. “Humor me.” He pulled his hand free from Angel’s and took the spider demon’s chin. He tilted his head up to meet Angel’s lips. The pale demon’s lips were softer than he anticipated, pliable and welcoming. Although initiating the kiss had given Alastor the upper hand he needed to be within his comfort zone, Angel’s well-practiced kiss nearly sent him reeling. It wasn’t unpleasant, not by far, but it was intense.

Alastor’s hand dug into Angel’s hair at the base of his skull, pulled him deeper into the kiss. He felt a soft murmur of encouragement from Angel, and his lips parted as Angel’s hand went from his cheek into his hair. Another hand slid up his chest, and another brushed over his hip.

Angel felt Alastor’s lips go firm and tense as he used his many hands to draw the radio demon closer. He thought he was behaving himself--he was being a lot less grabby than he usually was. The spider demon swiped his tongue between Alastor’s parted lips, and shivered as he heard a quiet sound escape the other demon. It was hard to tell if it was revulsion or want, and as Alastor pulled back from the kiss, he looked shaken but not disturbed.

“Maybe we should just kiss for a while,” Angel suggested in a sultry tone. His upper hands found Alastor’s shoulders and slowly slid past them, draping his forearms over the radio demon’s broad frame. “You could use some practice,” he teased with a smirk.

Alastor’s brow narrowed at the subtle jab as his eyes wandered to the spider’s many limbs twining around his. He watched the pale fingers resting on his hip, a slender thumb drawing slow circles over the ridge of bone.

Angel could see Alastor fixating, processing. He brought his hands back over Alastor’s shoulders and took him by his dark lapels. “Hey,” he said softly, then pulled Alastor gently into a chaste peck on the lips. “Don’t think so hard.”

Alastor was surprised by the casual brush of lips, more reassurance than come-on. Angel gave him a little tug and gestured with his chin toward the bed. The radio demon acquiesced and Angel sat him on the edge of the bed. The spider demon planted his hands on Alastor’s knees and lowered himself with a wiggle of hips. Alastor straightened as if a yard stick had been shoved down his spine, and his fingers dug into the thighs of his trousers.

“Don’t get so excited,” Angel said playfully. “I’m only takin’ yer boots off.” Still, Angel laid on that seductive charm as he tilted his chin up toward Alastor. “Is that alright?” His hands slid down the backs of Alastor’s calves.

Alastor relaxed a fraction. “Of course,” he said calmly.

Angel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. There were no ‘of course’s in this scenario, but Angel wasn’t going to throw that in Alastor’s face. He took Alastor’s boots off one at a time, unsurprised that even his socks were red. As Angel watched Alastor, he wondered if the radio demon would feel more comfortable like this--with him at his feet, giving the all-powerful demon the high ground. He rose up on his knees slowly, guiding his torso between Alastor’s legs.

“Why don’t we slip ya into something more comfortable?” Angel purred. Two hands slid up Alastor’s front, followed by two more. The first two went all the way to his collar, and Angel could feel Alastor’s throat tense up against his fingers. The other two hands were met with nigh as much tension against his waist as they fingered the buttons.

Angel could feel Alastor staring hard at him--not exactly _at_ him, but _past_ him. The radio demon’s whole body hummed, a dull white noise in the air. Angel began unbuttoning the high collar of his coat and leaned toward him. He felt Alastor’s cheek twitch, but the spider remained soft and calm.

“Green light, red light?” he asked softly as he undid Alastor’s collar and blazer buttons in tandem. The static fizzled and broke in response. Angel didn’t touch his neck as he began to peel it away, sliding his hands lower so he didn’t trigger any skin-to-skin contact.

Alastor shivered as Angel’s fingers skated under his coat, pushing his starched armor from his shoulders. It didn’t feel _bad,_ but he was so unused to allowing anyone to touch him--much less someone whose touch was so practiced and confident. His muscles jerked, away from Angel, then toward him.

“Green light,” he hiss-crackle-popped through gritted teeth.

Angel pushed Alastor’s coat from his shoulders, then insisted he take it fully off. As he slung the coat aside onto his vanity bench, he stared up into Alastor’s eyes.

“How about this?” Angel offered. “Get on the bed,” he ordered. Alastor looked amused that Angel would order him in such a way, but that knowing gaze brokered no argument. With a chuckle, Alastor shuffled back on the bed toward Angel’s pillows.

“Get comfortable,” Angel said lightly, leaning against the recently vacated edge of the bed. Alastor smirked and adjusted himself.

Angel crawled onto the bed, all bell curves and angles. Once on his knees a foot from Alastor, he took the hem of his sweater and peeled it off. Alastor tensed, expecting Angel to ask him to do the same. Instead, Angel sat back on his heels, plump thighs straining against his painted-on shorts and garter-belted stockings. [The spider demon ran his hands down his body, over his breasts, down his thighs, then back up so his upper hands ran through his hair, and his lower cupped his breasts.](https://twitter.com/DragonBiblio/status/1214295420563787776?s=20) He was curious to see just how little effect he had on the radio demon.

“You can touch _me,_ if ya like,” Angel offered, his pose even more generous than his words.

Alastor studied Angel as he performed. He could see how this would prove effective. It was objectively attractive--from the tilt of his hips to the dip of his spine, the swell of his breasts to the pout of his lips.

“You could watch me,” Angel mused with a tilt of his head.

Alastor was intrigued by the smile on Angel’s lips. His eyes followed Angel’s hands, the ones at his breasts squeezing before slipping back down the pale length of his abdomen, diving down between his thighs. He cringed.

“No. I don’t think I will,” Alastor said and halted Angel by his wrists.

Angel’s act shattered like glass.

“Your… performance would be lost on me.”

Angel faltered.

“You don’t need to put on all that glamor, Angel.”

He should have been offended that Alastor couldn’t even appreciate his performance, but instead Angel was left feeling out of his own comfort zone. What--now he was supposed to navigate Al’s weird fucking aversion without offering anything of his own? It was infinitely weird to feel so _seen_ when he was supposed to be doing his job. But--this wasn’t his job. This was a favor. For a friend. A trusted friend.

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not!” Angel shouted and pulled his wrists out of Alastor’s grip. “Shuddup.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes at Angel with a smile, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

“I was tryin’ ta ease ya into it,” Angel grumbled. With little warning, he crept closer and mounted Alastor’s lap. It was a natural place for him, his usual starting position. _On your mark, get set--go!_ But Alastor was tense as a false start, as loaded as a faulty starting gun.

“Relax,” Angel said impatiently. He grabbed Alastor’s hands and planted them on his hips. “What--don’t tell me you find _me_ fuckin’ repulsive,” he muttered.

Alastor exhaled and tried to look at the attractive sight straddling his lap. It was too much all at once. The pressure of Angel’s languid body against his own was firing nerves all too quickly, that expectant stare making him sweat.

Angel sighed and squeezed Alastor’s hands against his hips. He ran his other set of hands up the demon’s chest and rubbed his tense shoulders. “Al…” Angel said quietly. He brought one of Alastor’s hands from his hip up to his cheek. The spider demon kissed Alastor’s gloved palm, then held it against his face. “Tell me what you want.”

Alastor’s grin looked like more of a grimace. “I can’t.”

The spider demon rolled his eyes and mumbled into Alastor’s palm, “I know.” He offered Al a little smile. It wasn’t like Alastor didn’t like him--that wasn’t the issue. Alastor had come to _him_ for this, chosen him with intent, because he _trusted_ him. Angel wasn’t exactly a patient person, but that was with other things. When it came to _this_ stuff, he knew a thing or two. There were plenty of times when he’d wished someone actually understood what he wanted, even when he didn’t know what he wanted or didn’t want, himself.

Well, kissing seemed like a safe bet. Alastor hadn’t been revolted by that. Angel leaned down to the radio demon’s lips and kissed him. To his surprise, Alastor seemed relieved. Was Al worried that he was gonna give up on him? Angel couldn’t imagine Alastor worrying about anything, but he felt those hands tighten on him, actually _holding_ him there.

Angel smiled against Alastor’s lips, resisting the urge to run his hands over the hard, sharp angles of his body. He focused solely on the kiss. Alastor’s fingers began to dig into him, nails biting at his flesh. Not in disgust, but almost as if in possession. Angel felt his teeth scrape against his lips as his chest rose to meet between them.

 _Now_ Alastor was getting into it. As their mouths crashed together, Angel couldn’t resist rolling his hips against Alastor’s--it was in his nature. To the porn star’s surprise, the touch-repulsed demon dragged his hips down, drew him closer. Angel moaned against Alastor’s lips, grinding against him. Alastor’s hips actually lifted, pushed against him, and Angel broke from his lips with a moan.

His hands moved on their own accord, hungrily grasping at Alastor’s bowtie and shirt. In seconds, the bowtie was loose with a whisper, and Angel had begun wresting Alastor’s buttons open. 

“S-stop.” Alastor was breathing hard beneath him. “Red light,” he hissed.

Angel stopped stock-still. Their heated breath mingled in the frozen moment. “... Red light what?” Angel finally whispered.

Alastor grabbed one of his wrists. “Don’t…” He took a moment to calm his breath. “Not my shirt.”

Angel let go of Alastor’s shirt. He blinked down at Alastor, took in the state of him. The radio demon was flush, composure cracked. For the first time, Angel saw his neck fully exposed, and even a sliver of his chest. His well-pressed shirt was rumpled and starting to come loose from where it was tucked in his trousers, suspenders askew.

Jesus fucking Christ Alastor was hot. The thought came unbidden. It was far from the first time Angel had appreciated Alastor’s aesthetic, but never had he seen the radio demon without his full costume.

“I’ll button you back up,” Angel said in a hollow voice, not quite _there._ He’d never been with anyone like this, so _sensitive._ It was terrifying--not because he was afraid Alastor would hurt him, but because he was afraid he might hurt Alastor.

“It’s alright.” Alastor brushed Angel’s hands away and reaffixed the buttons himself.

Not to be deterred from the favor Alastor had asked of him, Angel kissed the demon’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Alastor brought his distant gaze back to Angel.

“For telling me.” The spider demon pressed closer. He had gotten _so close_ to Alastor just moments before. But he realized he needed to be more careful. It wasn’t a matter of getting Alastor in the mood--it was a matter of knowing where he was allowed to touch him. His lips brushed Alastor’s jaw, then he traced his nose further down, against his neck.

“Too much?” Angel asked as he embraced Alastor fully. It hadn’t seemed to be the closeness that upset Alastor so much as being bare. He felt Alastor take a deep breath. Relief? It sounded like relief against his hair.

“No,” Alastor sighed.

Angel dragged his lips over Alastor’s neck, up toward his ear. “Red light?” he asked.

Alastor shuddered and turned his head away. “... Green light.”

With a grin, Angel kissed Alastor’s neck slowly, making his way up to the radio demon’s jaw. He nosed against his hair as his lips made their way along the lower curve of his skull and back down the column of his throat. A slow hiss of warm static emanated from that stereo trachea as Angel tongued the pale, oft-covered flesh.

Angel peered up at Alastor as he gave an experimental roll of his hips. To his delight, he felt something firm press back against him.

“So yer _not_ a totally dead freak…” Angel murmured against where Alastor’s pulse had once been.

“Angel…” Alastor groaned irritably.

Unperturbed, Angel slid a hand between their bodies, starting low on Alastor’s belly and creeping toward his groin. “Red light?” he asked sweetly against Alastor’s neck.

“Ngh…” Alastor twitched and shifted beneath Angel. He sighed, then reluctantly said, “Green light…”

Angel palmed Alastor’s cock through his trousers, unable to stifle the excited inhale as he felt the radio demon hard in his hand. He wanted to say filthy things to Alastor, to tease and tempt him, but he bit his lip.

The spider demon’s own arousal was trapped tight in his shorts, but he was blessed with enough hands to take care of that. Even so, something about this sacred act of trust made him refrain from doing so. He rarely denied himself anything he wanted, but this was something unique. Alastor didn’t want the standard package; the performance, the live pornography, the over-the-top show.

For once, Angel was the one watching. He rubbed the heel of his hand slowly up and down Alastor’s cock. Despite how tense he had been, the radio demon was not immune to the pleasure.

“You finally gonna let me suck yer dick?” Angel asked quietly with a grin.

Alastor smirked and dug his nails into Angel’s hip. “No,” he snapped.

Angel laughed breathlessly. “Yer gonna have to let me take yer pants off if I’m gonna fuck ya.”

Alastor’s chest hitched, as if struck by a sudden realization.

“Al,” Angel softened. “Let’s just get it over with.” He kissed Alastor’s jaw. “Then ya can tell me if ya really wanna go through with it.”

Alastor glanced at Angel, then gave a short nod. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

Angel gave Alastor’s cock one more squeeze that sent a pleased shudder through him before he crept back, giving Alastor some room. It was impossible for Angel not to look tempting half-naked and waiting poised for a lover, but the delicious sight was wasted on Alastor.

The radio demon sat up and unbuttoned his trousers. He shrugged off his suspenders slowly, took his pants off simply and discarded them off the bed. Alastor was so focused on the task at hand that he failed to see how Angel stared, watching red cloth yield to pale skin. He wore his erection like an ornament, something there for decoration that had little effect on him.

Angel started slow-- _real_ slow--and just touched his foot. Alastor acknowledged him, but folded his hands in his lap.

“Don’t be shy now,” Angel purred, all milk and honey. It had the opposite effect. Angel frowned and walked his fingertips up Alastor’s shin. “Red light?” he asked, having serious doubts.

The fine hair on Alastor’s freshly exposed skin stood on end and his toes curled, but the radio demon buzzed, “Green light.”

Angel crept an inch closer and gently pushed Alastor’s legs apart. He could hear the hum of Alastor’s anxiety, feel the violin-string tension in his muscles, but the demon let him move further. His fingers skimmed along Alastor’s knee, then over his thigh, just one hand on either leg.

Angel found himself painfully aroused. The scant touch, all that Alastor seemed ready to allow, was intoxicating. The porn star was used to being ravaged, not an inch of skin left unmolested. Alastor had barely touched him, and he ached to feel some kind of desire. For a moment, before Alastor had stopped him, Angel had felt that spark--just for a moment, Alastor began to slip into the skin of a sexual creature.

With one hand resting on Alastor’s thigh, Angel took the radio demon by the wrist with a reassuring squeeze. He led the gloved fingers into his hair, his gaze soft and sultry on Alastor.

The radio demon didn’t know what to make of Angel’s expression. It was something he had neither experienced nor could explain. Angel looked as if he gleaned pleasure from this--an unselfish pleasure from touching his bare skin, some kind of excitement to be touched, even in a non-sexual way.

“Ya really don’t want me to suck yer dick?” Angel asked as he worked his thumbs up Alastor’s inner thighs. He felt Alastor’s heels dragging toward him, knees lifting on either side of him. “Ya seem to like my mouth better than my hands.”

Alastor’s hand fell from his lap, instead gripping the pink bedspread. “Is it necessary?”

Angel barked out a laugh. “Jeez, yer a fuckin’ boner-killer.” The spider demon sighed. “It’s not fuckin’ necessary, but it fuckin’ feels good, alright?” Angel slid his thumb up the last couple inches of Alastor’s thigh, stroking the juncture of his pelvis, tracing it to his hip.

Electricity trickled up Alastor’s spine with every centimeter Angel touched, but much to his surprise, the sensation focused not in the prickling, crawling feeling of his flesh at the back of his neck, the warning bells that another person was too close, but instead throbbed in his core. His cock jerked untouched and he sucked in a breath.

“I’m not just gonna fuck ya so ya can cross it off yer list,” Angel whispered. “I’m gonna show ya how good it can feel.” The pale demon arched his neck and caught Alastor’s lips. He felt them tremble for a moment as he brought his other hand to Alastor’s hip. “I can make ya feel _really_ good, Al,” Angel promised as he ran his thumb along the base of Alastor’s cock.

Alastor jerked, his knees knocking sharply into Angel as his abdomen tensed. It was unlike anything he had felt before. He was not utterly immune to sexual pleasure, but it came so rarely and felt like more of a chore than a treat. Angel seemed to know his body than he knew it himself.

“Is that a green light?” Angel asked in a low voice, tilting his head at Alastor as he palmed the demon’s cock, giving it an experimental stroke.

Alastor arched from the pillows, hips lifting toward Angel’s touch on their own accord. He nodded.

“Hmm?” Angel insisted, his grin growing.

“Yesss…” Alastor hissed through a fuzz of static.

Angel wasted no time in dipping low between Alastor’s thighs. The radio demon dimly registered the body supplicating before him. Soft, pale flesh of a spine arched up to a pert ass lifted in the air, slender arms striped with pink, two hands curling over his thighs, hooked underneath his tense muscles, another wrapped around his cock, another resting at the juncture of his groin.

Angel brought his mouth down near his fingers, just dragging his plump lips up Alastor’s shaft. He was rewarded with Alastor’s fingers tightening in his hair. Even that little tug sent an intense pulse of arousal throbbing down to his cock trapped tightly in his shorts. He murmured his content against Alastor’s turgid flesh as he mouthed the head of his cock, tracing a thick vein along the underside.

With a lewd sigh, Angel tasted his prize, laving his tongue against the head. Alastor bit down a groan and Angel thought he was going to lose it. He’d never felt so excited to please someone. The struggle was _so_ worth the reward. He moaned encouragingly and wrapped his lips around the tip, just long enough to wet it, to give Alastor a taste.

Alastor knew he had made the right decision in entrusting Angel Dust with this task. No one else would have the confidence to pleasure him, nor the experience and patience to listen when he said stop. Alastor very likely would have killed anyone else. And this-- _this_ was proving well worth the discomfort.

He watched as Angel bobbed on his cock. The visual was so unusual, his body tangled up with another’s, entwined and joined. He gasped and threw his head back as Angel swallowed him whole, held his face snug against his pelvis. Alastor’s breath came sharp and shallow as he felt the heat of Angel’s mouth pulse around him.

The radio demon opened his eyes and felt a cold shiver run through him. All the heat of his body was focused on a sole point, being sucked away until his fingertips and toes stung. His chest suddenly felt hollow. He was too exposed--the sight and sound of Angel was too much.

“Red light,” Alastor spat.

Angel had just been getting into his rhythm, but he stopped short and looked up. He pulled back and wiped his lips with the back of a hand as he sat up, all four arms slithering away from Alastor’s skin. “You don’t like it?” Angel didn’t sound offended so much as confused.

Alastor straightened and pulled his legs to his chest. “... No.” Angel sighed. “I mean--yes.” The spider demon cocked a brow at Alastor. “I don’t…” The radio demon cleared his throat. “I’m not comfortable in this position.”

“Yeah, ya don’t look comfortable.” Angel frowned. He shifted over with another sigh and sat next to Alastor, mirroring his pose, almost touching. “Al, if you don’t want to do this…”

“I do,” Alastor said firmly. Before Angel could assure him that he wouldn’t be offended if he didn’t want to do it with _him_ \--Alastor could see the thought forming in that surrendering smile--he added, “I want you.”

Angel was utterly taken aback. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he cheeks went rosy. “Alright.” The spider demon nudged Alastor. “We don’t have to do it all at once, y’know. Rome wasn’t built in a day n’ shit.”

"I don't want to lose my nerve now," Alastor replied, attempting to compose himself.

Angel rested an elbow on his knee and his chin on his knuckles as he studied Alastor. One of his arms lay between them. He lifted his hand and ran the back of his knuckles feather-light over Al's bare thigh.

Alastor was beginning to compile a codex of sensations. He was growing accustomed to Angel's touch, unrelenting yet soft, questions and consent writ across his flesh. He watched Angel's hand move against his thigh and his throat tightened. He looked away and managed a static-laced sigh.

"I'm surprised ya made it this far," Angel admitted.

Alastor shot Angel a look, feeling mocked. But Angel was smiling at him with genuine warmth, none of that sultry venom he weaponized against those who disdained his own hypersexuality.

"You really want this." Angel ran his fingers up Alastor's thigh. "I'm gonna figure out how to give it to ya." The spider demon grinned. "And I mean _really_ give it to ya," he purred.

Alastor was so wound up, he felt actual relief. Never had he relied so much on another person. He had picked Angel out of trust, yes, but also because he had nothing to prove to the mere Sinner. Sex was an easy enough bargaining chip to manipulate Angel into giving him the experience and exposure he needed--but now he felt he owed Angel more than that.

He had gone into this trial thinking that it would be simple enough. He had no drive for sex, and his aversion to being touched was merely a matter of circumstance. How little he had realized the depth of his discomfort in his own skin. If not for Angel's wisdom, he would have surely eviscerated a less worthy individual, and been left further scarred, set deeper into this minefield of touch.

"Let's try somethin' else." Angel sat forward on his knees and grabbed a pillow. He tossed it to the middle of the bed. "Lie down, face down," he gestured toward the pillow, "ass up." It was impossible to wipe the smirk from his face.

"That seems…" Alastor frowned.

"Let's just try it," Angel implored. "Promise this isn't some weird fetish of mine."

Alastor leered at Angel. "I didn't think it was, but now…"

"Oh, leave it," Angel said good-naturedly.

Alastor got to his knees. Angel saw that his arousal was flagging, but such was to be expected. What Angel did not expect was what he saw as the radio demon tipped forward onto the pillow. Resting just above Alastor's narrow ass, extending from his tailbone, was a tuft of red bordered with black, scarlet and pitch as his hair and ears.

"Holy shit." Angel stared with wide eyes. " _Please_ tell me you don't have a hard red light for that thing."

Alastor glanced at Angel, and seeing him staring made him feel exposed. "What thing?" he growled.

Angel ran his fingers lightly over the red fur, delighted as it twitched up toward his fingers.

Alastor's exhale huffed against the pillow he was pressed into and his face grew hot. He turned away from Angel, gloved nails digging into the pillow.

Angel peered at Alastor with a wide-eyed look of glee. He pet Alastor's tail again, this time with more intent. It shuddered where spine met fur and fluttered under Angel's fingers. Alastor refused to look at Angel, but he shifted, bringing his knees more firmly beneath himself, consequently lifting his ass further.

Taking this as invitation, Angel combed through the fluffy fur, testing the waters of the underside. Alastor inhaled sharply, and Angel watched a shiver run down his spine. The radio demon was still tense, but Angel thought the lack of visual was working to ease some of the sensory overload.

“Jesus Christ, that’s cute,” Angel laughed. He scrunched Alastor’s tail in his palm with a huge smile, then leaned toward him, sinuous, long torso hovering just beside him. “‘Course a fuckin’ terrifying monster like _you_ would get a cute, fluffy tail,” he hissed into Alastor’s ear. The ear twitched irritably and Angel heard a warning hum of static.

Angel sat back with a laugh and returned his attention to that upturned rear. Alastor was too skinny to turn heads, but Angel had never seen a more beautiful sight than this. Angel went to caress and knead Alastor’s exposed flesh, but caught himself with an eagerly bitten lip.

“Green light?” Angel asked lightly as he ran his fingers down Alastor’s flank.

It was the first time Alastor had ever been touched there by another person. Angel’s words gave him a moment’s warning, but the sensation wrought a gasp from his chest. He couldn’t see Angel with his face buried in the pillow, and it took away that unnerving feeling of _watching_ someone touch him. It could have been anyone’s hand--it could have been his own. He wasn’t distracted by the visual revulsion of someone invading his space. The touch alone didn’t make his skin crawl.

“Green light,” Alastor sighed.

Angel saw Alastor _relax_ for the first time since he had walked into his room. He gave Alastor’s thigh a bold squeeze as it skated back up, and was thrilled to see Al actually _lean_ into his touch. Two hands smoothed over Alastor’s hips, fingers spreading toward his thighs while another came between his legs and found his cock.

“Better?” Angel asked. He grinned as Alastor’s shoulders hunched. His tense arms betrayed his annoyance with Angel’s question, but his hips moved with the demon’s hand. Angel could hear his breath coming in quiet, hot pants instead of tight-throated sips.

The spider demon’s last free hand crept over Alastor’s bare ass, tracing the curve that bordered his most intimate place. Alastor’s thighs trembled, his stomach sucked so tight it felt as if it had fused to his spine. When Angel’s finger finally rubbed along the channel of his ass, Alastor surprised even himself with a moan.

Angel’s grin was audible as he preened over Alastor’s admission of desire. “There ya go,” he encouraged as he teased Alastor’s hole with one finger while his thumb brushed against his perineum.

Alastor pressed hard into the pillow to muffle the groan that crawled from his chest as his toes curled. The sensation was totally bizarre, just as indescribable as the revolting, repulsive feeling of being touched without permission. However, this was the opposite. He had explicitly given permission--and Angel had asked again and again along the way. 

This was Angel’s realm of expertise, and it showed. Those numerous hands touched and squeezed, stroked and rubbed, playing his body like an instrument. How could someone else make him feel this way? Was sex always like this? Despite his usual predilection against sexual intimacy, he saw a glimmer of the appeal.

Giving a Alastor’s ass a quick kiss, Angel’s hands flew away and he practically hopped over to the other side of the bed to wrench open his bedside table.

“What’re you doin’..?” Alastor rasped as he tensed. His face felt hot as he watched Angel rattle around in his drawer for who knows what.

“Just gettin’ prepared,” Angel said brightly and showed Alastor his prizes: four different bottles of lube, each with a different splashy logo and candy-colored tint, and a string of condoms.

“What’s--?”

“I’m not gonna go hurryin’ now,” Angel said and tossed the lube onto the bedspread. “Just so’s I don’t have to stop once yer really into it.”

Alastor didn’t like the idea of Angel using any of his _professional_ supplies on him. It seemed unnatural and fake. “You’re not going to use any of those chemicals on me,” Alastor muttered.

Angel snorted and flicked at Alastor’s tail. “It’s water-based.” In his excitement, Angel couldn’t resist taking a bite out of one of Alastor’s ass cheeks. It was more of a drag of teeth, but it still resulted in Alastor letting off a stream of tuning noises. “Thought I’d use strawberry on you ~” he lilted playfully.

“ _No flavors,_ ” Alastor growled, a screech of feedback tainting his voice.

Angel had thought things were going so well, perhaps he was getting a little carried away. “Fine. No flavors,” he relented. “But at least give it a shot.” He eyed Alastor’s resilient arousal as he drew closer, close enough that his thigh brushed against the radio demon’s. His lower hands found Al’s hips again, but this time he allowed himself more contact.

Angel bit back a pleased keen as his tortured cock finally made contact with _something._ The simple touch, just pressed against the side of Alastor’s ass rather than full-on, did little to alleviate his hunger for more. One hand slid over Alastor’s tense stomach while the other found his cock.

Angel could only behave so much. Being allowed this close, feeling Alastor shifting, but not recoiling, in his grasp made him bolder. He poured himself over the slope of Alastor’s back, pressed his cheek against the nape of the deer’s neck. His upper arms wrapped around Al’s chest, wanting to enjoy this embrace even if it was just for a moment before Alastor told him to back off.

Instead of feeling constricted or smothered, instead of the flood of warning bells and sensation of ants and worms crawling under his skin, Alastor found the weight of Angel against him comfortable. The confirmation of Angel’s own arousal, grinding as if on its own accord, slow and needy, made Alastor’s face heat. Angel had far more self control than Alastor had ever given him credit for.

Perhaps it was the sexual stimulation that crossed his wires. Angel’s hand was still palming his cock, but at a lazy, almost infuriating pace. The very notion that Alastor actively wanted _more_ of that nearly short-circuited the brain he thought he was so well-acquainted with and in control of.

Angel’s arms moved from where they had been wrapped around his ribs, and Alastor found himself missing them. The spider demon grabbed one of the bottles and fiddled with it somewhere outside of Alastor’s vision. Angel’s hand left his cock for a moment, and Alastor bit his lip in embarrassment as his hips canted in its absence.

“Lube is a magical thing,” Angel promised him. Alastor heard something wet, squelching. He did not care for the sound at all--it sounded like bayou muck sucking a boot into the quagmire.

His opinion of said unpleasant sound changed drastically as Angel’s hand greeted his cock once more. Different than the soft, dry tug of Angel’s clever hands, or even the wet, hot heat of his mouth--he was suddenly putty in Angel’s hands, sliding fluidly against his fingers. Alastor moaned loudly, trailing off with a rising pitch-tune that cut off sharply with a pop as he gasped.

Angel grinned as he looked down at Alastor. The urge to throw him an ‘I told you so’ was almost irresistible--but outweighed by seeing the radio demon expressing his pleasure so openly.

The fact that he might _actually_ fuck the radio demon was starting to sink in as he stroked him off, cock pressed against his thigh with only a thin piece of fabric between them. His grin faded to something almost like awe--definitely not an expression appropriate for film, and one he would have been glad Alastor couldn’t see, had he been aware of it.

He eyed Alastor’s faintly rocking hips, that tail teasing him by obscuring his goal. He ran his fingers over it and shivered as Alastor groaned and pressed back against him, rubbing against his cock whether he meant to or not. He bit his lip to keep from ruining the pure strains of Alastor’s enjoyment, varying between quiet and muffled against the pillow and surprisingly loud, but he couldn’t hold back an exhale of his own pleasure.

He reached blindly for the lube again, stroking Al’s tail back so he had access to his entrance. With a devious little smirk, he squeezed the bottle just-so over Alastor’s hole and relished in the jump of his hips.

Alastor was confused by how hot and sweaty one got, even with so little motion. Vigorous sex, yes, was sure to get the heart pumping and the adrenaline flowing, but his entire time with Angel had been rather sedate. Not nearly as acrobatic as he had expected. Angel’s fingers on his tail made his whole spine tingle, his ears twitch.

Something cold dripped onto his tenderest flesh and he recoiled instinctively. He bit down a moan into the pillow as Angel’s finger smeared the slick against his skin. Then, he felt Angel’s body move away from his thigh. The cold touch of the lube, and the sudden loss of contact made him shiver. He thought it would pass, but he couldn’t still his body.

Angel felt Alastor shivering--not just shivering, but trembling. Almost like he was in shock. He squeezed Alastor’s hip, stroked down the top of his thigh. Still trembling. Angel leaned over Alastor and saw that his ears were lowered.

“Red light?” he asked, his voice clear and crisp. As he moved closer, he noticed Alastor’s ears begin to relax and prick up. Contrary to how the scene had begun, the closer Angel came, the more contact he made, the _less_ Alastor shivered.

“Yer shakin’ like a leaf…” Angel whispered.

“C-cold,” Alastor muttered. He couldn’t describe it better than that. He was burning from the inside out, filled with this fire Angel had put inside him, but now he felt hollow without Angel against him.

Angel frowned. He couldn’t really prepare Alastor properly if he was lying on him like this. But if it was warmth and contact that Alastor needed… Angel kissed the back of Alastor’s neck and then shifted away from him.

 _Don’t stop now,_ Alastor begged silently. Not only was he oh-so close to his single-minded goal, but he was _hungry_ for it.

[He heard the slide of stockings behind his head, then felt a soft weight on his shoulderblades. To his surprise, he felt Angel’s crotch resting on his upper back, and then the _blissful_ softness of the spider demon’s breasts pressing against his lower back.](https://twitter.com/P_Parita_Sook_k/status/1206909967497744385?s=09) He let out a strangled moan as Angel’s hands cupped his sides, exposed by the sliding of his shirt.

Yes. _Yes._ Angel’s gentle weight held him down, kept him from floating untethered in this choppy sea of unfamiliar sensations, these wants and desires never experienced in reality as he knew it.

Angel kissed the swell of his rear, trailed kisses toward the base of his tail and he groaned with unbridled desire.

“Green light?” Angel whispered against his fur.

“ _Yes,_ ” Alastor begged breathlessly.

“Mm, if it’s cold yer feelin’, I know just how to warm ya up~” Angel purred.

Alastor’s chest struggled to catch a breath as the spider demon’s breath ghosted over his flesh. His tail strained weakly against Angel’s fingers, simultaneously wanting to cover his sensitive flesh and get well out of the way. He received another shock to this system--but this time it was burning hot and wet. He jerked underneath Angel, his whole body convulsing as Angel’s tongue made contact with his entrance. This time, Angel’s body was there to hold him down, to ground him, and he found his body straining, arching toward the demon on its own accord.

Angel laved Alastor’s twitching flesh with his tongue, and let his arms wrap around the radio demon’s waist without trepidation. Alastor telegraphed his mood so blatantly with his body that Angel probably could have navigated without the use of traffic lights. But the safe word wasn’t for him, it was for Alastor--a weapon or shield readily at hand when he felt overwhelmed.

Finally, Angel felt as if Alastor was on his level; or at the very least, they were in sync. Alastor begged for more, not just with his body, but with wordless pleas, gasps and moans, a cacophony of crashing static and garbled frequency. 

Angel was only too happy to oblige. When he worked his tongue in against that quivering ring of muscle, Alastor panted, rigid and throbbing beneath him. He slicked his fingers with more lube, making sure to warm it between his fingers before he reintroduced them. As he teased the rim of Alastor’s hole with his lewd tongue, he rubbed his fingertip against his virgin entrance, watching with mounting excitement as he penetrated Alastor for the first time.

Alastor clawed at the insufferably pink bedspread as Angel’s slick finger began to press inside him. He didn’t know what he had expected, but to be stretched had been far from it. It burned and ached like a wound, but so deliciously slick, as if fresh with blood.

The thought made Alastor’s cock ache, a mix of his earliest visceral pleasure with his latest one. He imagined Angel tearing him open, a thought made more real as the spider worked in a second finger. Angel’s cock rubbed against his spine as he heaved with breath, and Alastor found himself fantasizing for the first time.

“Ya really fuckin’ like that, huh?” Angel husked, almost to himself. Alastor’s knees had slid wide open, and Angel could feel his cock dripping as his arm brushed against it. Long gone was the stiff radio demon forcing himself through the motions to overcome his aversion to being touched--now Alastor was rutting into fingers plunged inside him, making the most lewd sounds as he writhed underneath Angel.

Angel bit his lip as he stretched Alastor on a third finger. He had pinned Alastor for a delicate bottom, considering all the trouble they had gone through to get to this point. But now that they were here, Angel realized his mistake. Alastor _liked_ the pain--it was the discomfort that repulsed him. He shoulda just told Alastor it would hurt his first time; woulda saved him some trouble.

Angel groaned at the sight of Alastor’s tight hole stretched around his fingers, turning his wrist to make the radio demon whimper on his knuckles. He breathed an excited curse and pumped his fingers in and out of the virgin demon.

With a hummed growl of desire, Angel sank his teeth into the meat of Alastor’s ass. “Ahh… lemme fuck you~” he purred.

“Do it,” Alastor growled. He hissed sharply as Angel withdrew his fingers all at once.

The spider demon unseated himself while simultaneously snapping the garter-belts from his shorts. He shucked the shorts off with an eager sigh of relief, not even waiting to get into position before he was pumping his cock with a needy moan. He grabbed a condom as he shuffled on the bed to get behind that glorious ass waiting for him and tore it open with his teeth. In record time, he was dressed and ready to go.

Although Alastor looked absolutely delectable like that, legs spread like a proper whore, panting and hungry, cock dripping onto his bedspread, Angel wasn’t going to ruin this moment for aesthetic sake. Angel grabbed Alastor by the shoulders with his upper hands while the lower ones held his hips in place.

He rubbed his cock against Alastor’s slick hole as he pulled the demon flush against him, back to chest. One hand fisted in Alastor’s shirt, another in his hair.

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard. I want to feel you rip my insides, tear me open,” Alastor growled, babbling half-mad with lust.

Angel was thrilled by Alastor’s filthy mouth. With a devilish grin, Angel guided his cock against Alastor, holding his hip tightly. “Fuck me yourself,” Angel challenged. “Take it,” he hissed. A loud moan sent his head back as Alastor’s tight body began to yield to his cock. “Oh, fuck!” Angel gasped. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Alastor wanted Angel inside him hard and fast, but he couldn’t even force his body on it. It felt like he was being speared open, like his entire pelvis was being filled. His hips ached, but he wanted more. He fell forward, unable to keep himself upright on trembling thighs. Angel’s hand tore at his shirt, but he couldn’t care as his buttons tore open.

Angel jerked his hips forward and was rewarded with a strangled cry of real pain. The power to elicit such a sound out of the radio demon definitely had its draw. He withdrew slowly and Alastor growled through a whimper. 

With another sharp jerk inside Alastor, Angel lowered himself against the demon’s back. He felt the strain and tremble of Alastor’s arms to keep himself on his hands and knees. “Green light?” he whispered breathlessly in Alastor’s ear.

Alastor bucked his hips viciously enough against Angel’s that it made the spider demon gasp. That terrible, threatening rictus grin was visible just over his shoulder, red eyes hidden by his fringe. “Break me,” Alastor breathed heavily.

Angel braced two of his arms on the bed and held Alastor with the other two as he repeated the sharp thrusts and slow withdrawals. He felt Alastor’s impatience wound tight as a spring in his chest, but the radio demon couldn’t find the strength in his over-wrought limbs to gain any purchase.

Angel was a people-pleaser--it was his job. He would give Alastor exactly what he wanted. Once he had loosened Alastor up a bit, he plowed into him, fucking him until he collapsed into the mattress. Once Alastor was a gasping mess, panting open-mouthed, Angel dragged him back up, sitting him fully on his cock.

Alastor leaned limply against Angel’s chest, cushioned by his soft breasts, cradled in his many arms, still stuck on his cock and being fucked to oblivion. There was a mess on the sheets, but Alastor couldn’t recall if he had orgasmed. His cock was still hard--or hard again, it was impossible to tell--and Angel was pumping it hard with a freshly slick hand.

The radio demon felt raw and craved more. His body moved in ways he had never known, seeking out new leverage so he could keep fucking himself on Angel. His hands fisted in the sheets between his wide-spread thighs, toes curled so he could ride Angel’s perfectly-angled cock. When orgasm struck, he was overcome and crumpled into a shuddering mess. Angel kept on pumping his cock until he was crying for mercy.

He dimly registered that he had stopped moving through a haze of fuzzy, gray-warm static. His entire lower half absolutely ached, from tailbone to feet. His sense of bodily awareness was skewed and he had to open his eyes to remember where his limbs were.

“How was that?” Angel asked near Alastor’s ear. Some sweet fingertips brushed a bit of hair stuck to his cheek.

Alastor let out a full, staticy sigh; the sort that overloaded the microphone.

“Yer gonna kill me in the morning,” Angel laughed.

“Mm.” Alastor let his eyelids grow heavy. “Maybe.”

“Gonna throw away this condom and get cleaned up.”

Alastor couldn’t care less. At least, he shouldn’t have cared. He didn’t care, at first. It felt nice to slowly become aware of his body again alone in the bed. But the longer Angel stayed away, the more Alastor became aware of _his_ body--missing. Absent.

They had been touching for what felt like hours now, constant contact. Even when Alastor had twitched and recoiled, Angel had patiently done his due diligence to perform the favor Alastor had asked. It should have been as easy as using Angel’s hypersexual nature to achieve his own goals, but it had ended up far more complicated than that.

Of course he went into this genuinely trusting Angel, but after the _care_ Angel had put into what should have been an easy indulgence of his own desires, he realized there were things he hadn’t known about Angel. Where had the porn star learned to be so cautious, so patient? He struggled to put these two halves of Angel together in his mind--the sexual deviant, and the wise lover.

Angel was in the en suite long enough that Alastor managed to drag his bag of bones into a slightly more dignified position, although he had begun to feel in dire need of a shower. Angel finally emerged, clean and well-coiffed.

“Yer still here,” Angel said with a look of surprise. As he drew closer, Alastor realized how tired he looked.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe it’s bad form to just… slip out,” he said with a wave of his fingers.

It had been weird enough fooling around with Alastor, but seeing him sex-satisfied and lying casually on his bed was almost too much. He laughed thinly, gave a half-hearted shrug.

“You’ve done me a great service,” Alastor said seriously.

Angel was tired. Not from the sex--that usually gave him a boost of energy. It was everything leading up to the sex. He wasn’t used to worrying about his partners, taking care of them like that. He wasn’t used to fucking people he was close to. If you could even call him close to Alastor. Closer than most, he supposed. Close enough that the word ‘trust’ had been dropped.

He shivered and shrugged it off as he looked idly at his scattered clothes in search of something to wear.

“Angel…” Alastor watched as the spider demon looked around the room at anything but him with hollow, tired eyes. “I owe you.”

Angel laughed humorlessly. “Nah. First taste is free,” he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“That was hardly a taste of your services,” Alastor called him out plainly.

“What d’you want, Al?” Angel asked, more sharply than he had intended. “Ya dissatisfied with your service? Gonna leave me a bad review if I don’t--”

“Angel,” Alastor cut in sharply with a flick of his red eyes. “I don’t want anything. Other than to repay you.” He gestured with a tilt of his head toward the bed.

Angel narrowed an eye at him, then laughed. “Nah--I ain’t a cuddler,” he lied. “Hard pass on the cuddlin’.” Cuddling had long been removed from his usual routine. There had been a time, years ago, during the early days with Val… But that had all been a sham, anyway.

“You’re a bad liar, Angel Dust.”

Angel looked sharply at Al with a mean pout.

“You’re exhausted. Stop fidgeting and come lie down.”

The spider demon looked dubiously at the bed, then at Alastor. _Now_ what was the wily radio demon playing at? It was hard to discount the frazzled-honest things Alastor had said to him, but it was equally difficult to believe that Alastor wanted to linger with him.

He slowly padded back to the bed and sank down, then flopped onto his back. Not cuddling. But lying with his head near Alastor’s languid frame. He glanced up at Alastor, then stared up at the ceiling.

He saw a flicker of a red-tipped glove, then felt fingers in his hair. He blinked at the ceiling, surprised as Alastor continued to gently comb his hair. It felt… nice. Somehow, as bizarre as it was, it put him at ease.

“Green light?” Alastor rumbled quietly.

Angel turned onto his side and sat up to meet Alastor’s eyes. With a quiet little smile, Angel pulled his legs onto the bed and flopped down closer to Alastor, their bodies bent in tandem but not touching.

“Green light,” Angel replied and let his brow come to meet Alastor’s chest, as the radio demon’s fingers carded through his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want more, follow me over on Twitter [@vol_ctrl](https://twitter.com/vol_ctrl) for updates, announcements on my other projects, and more HH content!


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